My first smuggle

My Dad, on one of our Sunday Drives
from our home in Rialto, California

Reading Abe the Gun Runner caused the old feeder to recall his very first smuggling caper. My parents took me along on a day trip to Tijuana. As soon as they weren't looking, I bought the biggest switchblade knife I could afford. I kept it hidden from the parents until we got into the car to head back to Rialto. I had to play with my knife. Mom heard me clicking the blade behind her seat and caught me. She set up a real fuss about it, mostly directed at my Dad. He was supposed to stop the car and take it away from me immediately. He just kept driving toward the border, and told her not to worry about it.

I figured my Dad was really with it, as I clicked and brandished my switchblade. I was already thinking of taking it to school. I knew just who needed to see it. But when we stopped at the US side of the border, the Customs guy asked my Dad if we had bought anything in Mexico. My Dad pointed his thumb over his shoulder at me and said, "Just a big switchblade."

What followed was a mildly traumatic scene. I didn't so much resist as whine, and it ended with the Customs officer snapping the blade off and tossing the resulting junk into a 55 gallon drum while my Mom clucked. But they didn't know I had also bought a deck of cards with awfully naughty photos on the backs!